Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Zombie King, artist - Blaze Ya Dead Homie. Album song Gang Rags: Reborn, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.10.2014
Record label: Majik Ninja Entertainment
Song language: English
Zombie King |
The Overseer of the Underworld underneath the dirt my soldiers hurt, |
with a little encouragement. |
They could turn into a power force, huddle with me at the helm like a reguarded |
force, |
Ima take you on the bridge, let em breathe in the wind besides anythings better |
than bein in the box down there, |
Get up, the cemetary gates cracked the prophecys fullfilled, the King came back, |
Ready the court n' assemble a castle of caskets fitted for the heroine that I’m |
attracted, |
Everybody else get to making weapons, be ready for the war, make sure the |
Kingdom is protected! |
Zombie, Zombie, |
Zombie, Zombie |
Ima King! |
Zombie King with a crown of bones and an army of the dead ready to invade homes, |
As I sit up on my throne in my cemetary court, holders coming out my sides, |
like I’m open like support. |
Vaccines pumping in, by-products pumping out, the process is so intense it |
makes me bleed from the mouth, |
Fetch me the royal napkin so I can dab it clean, appearance always on mind, |
even if zombie royal tea. |
Got the skin jerky baggies with the fresh demon faces, rubber soles with |
intestines for shoe laces |
With the three human spines make a staff like Skeletor, I sit in in front of a |
desk drawer watching blood pour. |
And the rusty metal drums to make up a lazerous pit where zombies can |
regenerate arms and legs and shit. |
Zombie, Zombie, |
Zombie, Zombie |
Ima King! |
All bow your heads in missing the great, who walks amongst the living with |
bullet holes and a maggot face |
And given many reasons to have hate, but my resolve is a bullet inside of a |
twelve gauge, |
Keeps a foreign clutch when I’m neighboring my wounds or a grove are to open up |
the tomb for the roots of the mist of war, |
Casualties are great when your army is dead and don’t conduct brain waves, |
So I’m looking for a few good soldiers that hold a shotgun real steady to their |
shoulders, |
That they hear the talking from a mile away, in their dome, and drag their body |
all the way home to the. |
Zombie, Zombie, |
Zombie, Zombie |
Ima King! |